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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571582">hair trigger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop'>catpoop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Canon Universe, Choking, Established Relationship, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Vomiting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:02:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship has always been fraught with miscommunication, but never to this extent.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hair trigger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>basically my mind went:<br/>Nines With His Poor Social Skills + Gavin And His Undernegotiated Kinks = ...</p><p>theyre a disaster waiting to happen</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tuesday evening, and Gavin already feels like a shell of the man he once was. This is not to say that he normally feels particularly energised or healthy, but sometimes there are cases that destroy any sense of ‘rest and relaxation’ he might have gathered over the weekend. He slumps across his couch, beer in hand, and tries not to think about having to head back in tomorrow morning.</p><p>He could fuck it out, probably. Call his personal android therapist-slash-dildo. Hang out with some of the lads from work, if he hasn’t undoubtedly pissed them off one way or another. </p><p>Normally, Gavin would be texting Nines already, but he isn’t in the mood tonight. For some reason. Sure, he’d wanted to sock him one the entire time at work, but that’s just par for the course. He takes another long swallow and stares at the TV screen blankly.</p><p>This is how Nines finds him when the android silently enters his apartment an hour later. </p><p>“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gavin flinches, and beer sloshes from the open can onto his lap. His fifth can of the night, Nines counts.</p><p>“I wanted to come here,” Nines says simply. He has yet to fully master the nuances behind wants and desires, but he is at least able to associate desirable outcomes with Gavin Reed’s presence – <i>outside</i> of work. He steps closer.</p><p>The man regards him with a distracted wariness. “That doesn’t mean you can just fuckin’ <i>come here</i>.”</p><p>“I have a means of entry.” The electronic lock is easy to bypass. “I have come here before.” </p><p>With data collected from the eight previous times Nines has set foot in Gavin’s apartment, he can make predictions. He can make comparisons. It is rare for them to speak at such length before the other man decides to get physical, but perhaps Gavin is intent on finishing his current can.  If he knocks the drink out of his hand, there is a 96% chance Gavin will respond to his violence with fervour. Nines doesn’t need to calculate the rest.</p><p>For once, he lets his preconstructive algorithms take a back-seat, because Gavin is simple and predictable and easy to please. Nines considers all the information he can find about the intricacies of social human behaviour – and thinks about how next to none of it is applicable whenever he is interacting with Gavin. He smiles.</p><p>Gavin swears at him as the can flies out of his hand, before cutting off with a grunt as Nines hoists him up into an over-the-shoulder carry, to roughly deposit him in his bedroom.</p><p>He groans up at Nines, red-faced and sweaty. “Motherfuck – can’t you fuckin’ leave?”</p><p>“No.” </p><p>Gavin is still lying there, looking uncharacteristically limp and wrung-out, and Nines takes the opportunity to start divesting him of his clothes. The moment he reaches under the ratty t-shirt, Gavin springs back to life. </p><p>Nines easily catches the foot aimed for his chest. </p><p>“What the fuck,” Gavin spits. “I said <i>stop</i>!”</p><p>He hadn’t. And regardless, Nines knows what to expect. The first few times he had asked to stop, Gavin had used the lull to mount a further offensive attack. Nines has learned, and he throws himself forwards to pin the man to the bed, caging his wrists as the fists start to fly. Gavin gets the one punch in before Nines has him fully immobile, heavily straddling his thighs. They buck and jerk underneath him.</p><p>“Get the fuck off of me, you psycho!”</p><p>“You need to learn to watch your tongue.”</p><p>“I don’t need to learn <i>anything</i> from you, you fuckin’ freak!” </p><p>Spittle lands on Nines’ cheek, and he backhands Gavin without even thinking about it. It rings loudly in the silence of the room, until Gavin growls and kicks even harder.</p><p>“Get. Off me! Fuck off!!”</p><p>Nines regrets not picking up handcuffs on their way into the bedroom. For all his inhuman strength, he only has the two hands. One remains around Gavin’s wrists as the other creeps down to his throat. He squeezes until the man starts to scream.</p><p>“<i>Fuck</i> you! Stop – don’t –” Gavin cuts off with a choked gurgle, and satisfied, Nines presses down harder, to watch the skin on his face turn purple.</p><p>He releases Gavin’s wrists – like this, the man doesn’t have the strength to fight back. He did not enjoy getting his optical units replaced the last time Gavin clawed at his face, and only when the struggling beneath him turns weak and half-hearted does he use his free hand to strip Gavin further. </p><p>The man keeps himself in shape despite every other unhealthy habit he indulges in, and Nines takes his time fondling the expanse of his chest. He keeps a fraction of his attention focused on the man’s oxygen requirements, and loosens his grip for a second to let Gavin suck in a great, wheezing breath. Of course, he can never trust Gavin to <i>behave</i>.</p><p>“Stop! Stop –” The scream tears from his throat with an urgency that doesn’t match the twitching of his sluggish limbs. Nines bats Gavin’s arms away from his face with a frown before adjusting the grip on his neck. The bones and cartilages are fragile under his grip, and he has to be careful not to press harder, even as Gavin’s voicebox continues to vibrate at such a frequency that small, desperate noises force their way out of his open mouth. Nines wishes he could hold it still.</p><p>With his other hand, he continues to toy with the man’s heaving abdomen, tracing the dip of his bellybutton before finding his waistband. Gavin’s hips buck weakly, guiding Nines as he manoeuvres his pants to free his cock. </p><p>For the first time, Nines pauses. </p><p>He feels a whirr of confusion in the back of his mind as he looks down at where Gavin’s raging erection would <i>usually</i> be and finds nothing but his pitifully flaccid cock.</p><p>His right hand must loosen, because Gavin lets out a wounded noise, shaking underneath him until some semblance of strength returns. He weakly pushes Nines out of his lap. Nines lets him.</p><p>“Fuck, fuck –” Gavin wheezes, pushing himself upright for just long enough to hunch over the side of the bed and empty his stomach onto the floor. Nines silently records the entire scene.</p><p>The first thing he can think to say, after several seconds punctuated only by Gavin’s hoarse, wheezing coughs, is: “I did not know you were emetophilic.”</p><p>He is met with a shaky look of disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What part of that made you think I enjoyed <i>any</i> of it? Maybe when I asked you to stop?”</p><p>Nines blinks, calm. “You have asked to stop during eleven of our twelve previous sexual encounters. What you say is not indicative of your true desires.”</p><p>“When I say stop, I fuckin’ <i>mean</i> stop!” The man is crying. It adds to the mess on his face, and Nines hopes he will go clean himself up promptly.</p><p>“You don’t.”</p><p>“I fuckin’ –” A pause, where Gavin stabs a trembling finger in Nines’ direction. “Get out of my house. Get the fuck away from me. I’ll fuckin’ shoot you if you don’t!”</p><p>Nines would break his hand before he can do that, if it weren’t for the resulting disruption to the detective’s ability to perform at work. The hand-shaped mark wrapping around Gavin’s throat, on the other hand, has proven to be an effective motivator and disciplinary method. He watches silently, contemplative, as Gavin scrambles off the bed and stumbles to the bathroom.</p><p>Nines now has several options, some more statistically promising than others. His first instinct is to corner Gavin in the bathroom and fuck him against the wall. The second is to find the man’s gun and threaten him with it. The fifth is to leave.</p><p>Nines walks the short distance to the bathroom and pauses in the open doorway, to make eye contact with Gavin as he raises his dripping face from the sink. It takes a century for him to compose himself, but Nines allows the human his precious seconds as he waits – for an explanation, a cue. Something.</p><p>“What part –” Gavin croaks, turning to press against the edge of the sink, “What part of fuck off do you not understand?”</p><p>“Was my performance unsatisfactory?” Nines steps into the bathroom, heels clacking against tile. He doesn’t miss the way Gavin’s eyes dart downwards at the noise, nor the way they flash back up to his face immediately after. </p><p>His question goes unanswered as Gavin steps backwards to maintain a distance, still gripping the sink as he stares at Nines. His eyes are wide, and Nines is immediately reminded of prey species and their desperate need for <i>sight</i>. There is about a foot of space behind Gavin before he will bump into the bathtub, and he does just that a second later. Somehow, his eyes widen even further.</p><p>“Can you just leave me alone?” His weary voice is small, even in the echo chamber of the bathroom. “Please?”</p><p>Nines falters. Gavin never begs. Not when he needs help on a case. Not when he is recovering from his second orgasm. It is just the one word, but it throws Nines’ processors into even more of a confused frenzy. He will need to review this encounter later, he is certain of it.</p><p>For now, he turns and leaves the apartment with Gavin’s open, vulnerable expression plastered in his mind. He locks the door behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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